


Take Me Gently (Set Me Free)

by Sparcina



Series: How Frostiron Could Have Started [15]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Loki, First Time, Gentle Sex, Kissing, Loki is Not Amused, M/M, Sass, Snarling Loki (but that is understandable), Top Tony, Virgin Loki, frenemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 12:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11104599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparcina/pseuds/Sparcina
Summary: When Tony wakes up that morning, he expects stacks of contracts hurled at his head, an alien attack, or maybe a casual remark from Steve about his ‘debauched lifestyle’. What he doesn’t expect is Thor showing up to request that he sees Loki through his virgin night.“Wait,” Tony cuts in, wishing he'd laced his coffee with something stronger. “You want me towhat?”





	Take Me Gently (Set Me Free)

**Author's Note:**

> A little fluff before I go back to angst.
> 
> I dictated most of this story on my phone as I walked to work. Awkward at rush hour on the street (but can't force or stop inspiration). The whole virgin-night concept is borrowed from Anne Bishop’s _Black Jewels_ series, which has been my favorite for years.
> 
> Betaed by the amazing [Aurrus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurrus/pseuds/Aurrus). Thank you so much for your hard work <3 <3 <3

Tony woke up to a familiar voice.

“Good morning, Sir.”

“Those two words can’t possibly belong together,” Tony growled into his pillow.

He lay sprawled across the mattress, the desire to sleep for another decade a physical pressure on his back. He had been thoroughly fucked last night, and he needed more time to rest his bones now that he’d reached forty… something.

The blinds rose to let in a highly unwelcome laser beam. Right, the sun.

“I don’t remember programming you to be a morning person,” he grumbled. “Why are you a morning person? I swear your only goal in life is to torment me.”

Jarvis’ reply was smooth as always. “You programmed me to make your life easier, and I endeavor to do so every day, Sir. If Ms. Potts is forced to wake you herself, I fear for your life.”

“You might have a point.”

Tony shivered from dread: recovering from last night activities wasn’t worth Pepper’s wrath (and a beating with a stiletto). He rolled off the bed eventually.

“I need a cup of coffee, pal. No, better yet: make it several.” He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. “What kind of shitty day am I looking at?”

The list was even longer than he’d feared: a meeting with the board of SI that would last at least three hours, followed by a dinner with the Minister of Defense in an upscale restaurant they both hated but kept going to for no reason he could remember, a private visit of the Engineering Department for a delegation of European ambassadors, and then, at long last, an early dinner with Pepper and another bunch of important assholes who would smile the whole time while waiting for him to make a mistake to slit his throat, economically speaking.

“Don’t I get any recreation time?”

“From what I’ve come to understand, you live in a perpetual state of recreation, Sir.”

“Don’t you dare sass me so early in the day. It breaks my heart, and you know how fragile it is. Find another hobby.”

“Of course, Sir.” The sarcastic reply was exactly what Tony needed to get going. He picked the first suit on the rack, put it on before remembering he’d better take a shower first and headed to the bathroom. When he took the lift to the ground floor, he was only twenty-five minutes late and half-awake, which was a major improvement to not awake at all.

The welcome committee was a tad larger than he’d anticipated. Pepper was glaring; Thor was grinning.

“Friend Tony!”

Tony hesitated only a fraction of a second. “Hey, Thor. How are things on Asg… Careful there, I’m a mortal, remember?”

Thor embraced him fiercely, threatening once more to break his whole skeletal structure. He hoped the cracking noise wasn’t his ribs being moved around. He hated it when people rearranged his stuff without his permission, like that time in Afghanistan.

Pepper looked at the two of them with fond exasperation. Tony liked it better than the glare.

“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, Thor, but I’m afraid Tony is in a hurry at the moment. You have five minutes,” she warned Tony, and yes, the murderous glare was back. Joy. “See you later, Thor!”

“Have a good day, Lady Pepper!”

Thor’s smile vanished as soon as the front door closed. Tony took in the grim expression with growing nervousness. Where was the first (alcoholic) coffee he desperately needed to deal with the most recent Asgardian incident? He wasn’t a diplomat, nor was he a warrior, even if he used to build weapons for a living. He braced himself for the worse.

Of course, he couldn’t have expected _that_.

 

**OoO**

“It’s about Loki.”

Of course it was about Loki, Tony thought one hour later, barricaded in his lab and trying not to think too hard about the only ‘assignment’ that had replaced his previously extra-busy schedule of the day. As always, his trying not to think about something led to full-time obsessing, and yes, it would have helped if Pepper hadn’t be so damn _nice_ about the ordeal _._

“Fuck.” He grabbed a wrench and considered the best target to sublimate the cocktail of frightening emotions that had replaced the initial annoyance of the morning.

“Aptly put, Sir.”

The Porsche was definitively the best choice: Tony applauded himself very sarcastically as the tool took off an inch of paint on the right side. “I said no sass, Jarv.”

“Your exact words were: ‘No sass in the morning’.”

Tony sighed; trust Jarvis to obey him to the letter. He had spent the last hour sighing, swearing, and pacing in his lab. He wished he’d had the foresight of stocking the minibar after the last time he’d drunken himself into a stupor. No such luck. Of course, if he’d known ahead of time what he was set to do tonight, he would have done quite a few things differently. Like working himself to exhaustion, and maybe saying _no._ He wasn’t sure how Thor would have reacted, though, and he didn’t especially wish to have _struck by lightning_ written on his tombstone.

It didn’t help that Loki was handsome.

“Right,” he mused out loud, staring at the abused door of his Porsche. Whatever. “I just have to have sex with someone who could break my neck and does _not_ want to be fucked. A piece of cake. A walk in the park. A fucking doctorate… What am I gonna do, Jarv?”

“Would you like me to get the Captain down here, Sir?”

Jarvis probably meant to be helpful. “Fuck no.” Tony shivered at the prospect. There was no way he was involving Captain-I-have-a-stick-the-size-of-the-Empire-State-Building-up-my-ass with this whole _virgin night_ thing. Steve might not be a virgin (he had denied it enough times for Tony to believe him), but he was sure as hell acting like one. Tony didn’t want to hear the whole sleeping-with-the-enemy argument, nor was he too keen on the prospect of having the paradoxical you-should-not-take-advantage-of-somebody-else speech, because of course Steve would think it was his idea, and only he could accuse someone of two opposite sins and still make some sense.

Tony shivered some more, because seriously, _Steve_? “Do you actually want to make things worse, Jarv?”

“Perhaps Dr. Banner could help.”

“Sure, I’ve missed him hulking out in the Tower; Pepper said I should redecorate anyway.”

“Ms. Romanov might be of better advice.”

“Of course. Would that be before or after she kills me with her pinkie because, I don’t know, I’ve said something wrong again?”

“I’m still waiting for you to say the right thing in polite company, Sir.”

“That’s just plain mean and you know it.”

“I was made to serve.”

Tony rolled his eyes and thought about a certain green-eyed god. “Tell me why I agreed to this again?”

There was no answer; not that Tony expected one. He sank onto the closest chair (an antiquity that needed a good scrub) and closed his eyes, thinking back on his conversation with Thor.

Loki was a virgin. God, if Tony had expected _that_. With the way Loki moved, flirted and basically spat at the whole universe, Tony would have bet all of his fortune that the god had warmed at least a couple thousands beds over the centuries. He wasn’t used to be that far of the mark. It unnerved him.

So, Loki had never had sex. Thor had made that really clear. He then told Tony about Loki’s magic, how it allowed him to defend himself against physical and mental attacks. Tony hadn’t really gotten the point until Thor mentioned the Chitauri Invasion. He had suspected Loki wasn’t quite himself at the time, but it was nice to be proven right.

“My brother didn’t have the strength to resist Thanos’… hold on him,” Thor had told him with enough anger that the sky had darkened and the thunder rumbled. “As long as he hasn’t gone through his virgin night, he won’t come into his full power.”

When Tony had asked him why Loki hadn’t rectified the situation sooner, Thor had explained that on that ‘fateful night’ (Tony had winced at the careful phrasing), a wrong move could break Loki forever. The lover who would see him through that night needed to have experience and a clear desire to help his brother, not use him and break him.

Apparently, there wasn’t someone like that back on Asgard.

“Is it common where you come from?”

“No, it is not. Mother and I suspect it is a Jotun trait.” Thor had looked offended, as if Tony had implied that he ought to have found a suitable ‘lover’ sooner. “If I had known about the issue earlier, I would have taken care of it.” 

Tony had chosen not to think about that claim too hard, because it was a little too incestuous for his liking, and while he wasn’t a prude by any stretch of the imagination, he had to draw the line somewhere.

“Why me?” he’d asked once Thor had answered all his other questions. In the intimacy of his own mind, he could admit he was sort of interested (okay, more than interested) by the idea of bedding Loki, or having Loki bed him, or whatever kind of sex that put a naked Loki into his arms, but the concept of deflowering a twenty-century-old snarky, angry, desperate god didn’t exactly turn him on.

“Why you, friend Tony?” Thor had smiled for the first time in an hour. “Because I trust you to take care of him. You are very much alike, he and you.”

Seriously now? “Does he even know you came to me?”

“He will know soon enough,” Thor had replied before throwing his hammer at the sky and promptly vanishing.

“Wonderful.” Tony had considered the wall of windows in the hall and wondered if he should bother putting some distance between his own person and the very fragile glass.

**OoO**

Three hours later, Tony was standing stiff as a board in the guest bedroom he’d chosen, twisting his hands as the door opened. He was not nervous. He wasn’t.

“I’m not happy to be here,” Loki said as way of greeting. He closed the door behind him with a loud bang and crossed his arms, regal in his pride and lethal in his fright. His dark hair ended in smooth waves between his shoulder blades, and he wore his usual armor of dark green and black leather. There was not a smooth line anywhere on his face.

Well, what now? Tony had planned to say something along the lines of ‘hi, how are you?’ He had very purposefully barred the words ‘cock’, ‘fuck’, ‘ass’, and everything semantically related, for the first few minutes of their get-together. He could be polite if he wanted to. Seriously, Pepper would have been proud of how casually he had dressed, how normal the room was (if he’d really wanted to piss off Loki, he could have worn the shirt that said ‘My dick is bigger than yours’, or better/worse yet, the one saying ‘Get on your knees, slut’).

Of course, Loki had to ruin it, and so Tony reverted to his usual smart-ass self. It was only self-defense.

“I’m happy to see you too, sunshine. How about you get on the bed and spread your legs for me?”

In hindsight, it had probably _not_ been the right thing to say. Tony had a heartbeat to record Loki’s utter shock before a snarling five-hundred pounds of god jumped at his throat. It really said something about his lifestyle that he wasn’t even remotely surprised to end up with his wrists pinned up above his head and a hand squeezing his windpipe.

“If you kill me…”

“I can find somebody else,” Loki spat in his face.

“Really?” His voice was hoarse. He heard the familiar ring of impending unconsciousness. “How many people back home would be willing to help you? After everything you’ve… done?”

Loki released him. Half his face disappeared behind his hair, hidden, safe. Tony had an apology on the tip of his tongue, but he could still feel a pressure on his throat, so he listened to his pride as he coughed and bit back the words. He knew he should have turned down Thor. Unfortunately for him, his lips had a way of forming ‘yes’ when what he meant was ‘no’. He could probably blame his subconscious, which was responsible for all that daydreaming about Loki’s ass and everything he wanted to do about it… in it… around it…

Okay, so yes, Loki was handsome. He’d even told Rhodey once, but there was still that fiery, yet icy mind behind those emerald eyes to consider. A mind that was so… like his own.

“I’m… sorry,” he whizzed, probably a tad late. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

Loki brushed back a strand of hair, letting the afternoon glow caress the previously hidden half of his face. He looked tired, Tony thought. Tired and conflicted.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have said yes.”

“Let me ask that again.” Tony was careful to be only curious, and not insulting, when he spoke again. “Who would have done it?”

“A few people.” A pained sound, so subtle Tony would have missed it had he not been so attentive. “None of them would have enjoyed it.”

Would _you_ have enjoyed it? Tony mentally stepped on his toes before opening his big mouth again. Loki answered the unspoken question anyway. “I certainly wouldn’t have enjoyed having any of them…” A contemplative look flashed across his face, “…piercing me.”

A good portion of Tony’s blood (probably too much to be healthy) rushed to his nether regions. He tried to berate his cock, very interested by that point, because while Loki had a way of saying perfectly normal things and making them sound deviously _dirty_ , he probably wouldn’t want to face a hard on so soon.

“Let’s start over,” Tony offered before his cock could take the lead. “The name’s Tony, you threw me through a window, but I recovered, thank you for your concern. You’re Loki, and you’re here because I can help you with the whole virgin thing. Want a cup of wine?”

Loki snorted, probably because Tony hadn’t stopped to catch his breath once.

“That would be much appreciated.”

Tony immediately used the diversion to think about Director Fury in a bikini. Whistling nervously, he uncorked the bottle of red whine he’d brought in the room.

Why had Thor felt it would be a good idea to ask Tony Stark?

Licking his lips, Tony poured two glasses. He didn’t need to get drunk (it was actually in his best interest to stay sober, for his tongue was already loose enough). Of course, thinking about loosened stuff led to fantasies about Loki’s hole, and thinking about Loki’s hole didn’t help with the ragging hard-on, and fuck, he needed to be the mature one here… even if Loki was two millennia older.

He handed Loki his glass. 

“Are you alright, Stark?”

Tony cleared his throat. “Never been better.”

They drank in silence for a while. It was a companionable silence, and Tony took the opportunity to plan the next step. He drank more than he should have, torturing himself with visions of a panting Loki asking to be _pierced_ , begging for it.

Loki broke the silence. “I’ve been told you have… experience.”

That’s one way of putting things, Tony thought. He put his glass on the floor beside the half-empty bottle. They were both still standing, watching each other: nervous Tony, wary Loki. Or was it the other way around?

The loosened-tongue thing happened again.

“How is it possible to live thousands of years and never have sex?”

Loki arched a delicate eyebrow.

“Contrary to your very human belief, _Anthony,_ there is more to life than mere promiscuity.” Again with the unusual terminology, and again with Tony’s pulse going through the roof. As if it wasn’t enough, Loki had used his name, in that sweet tone of his that promised decades of pain in the darkest corner of Helheim.

“Not if you don’t know what it is.”

“It can’t be that interesting.”

Tony sure as hell recognized a challenge when he heard one. He licked his lips, acutely aware of Loki’s eyes following the motion, and took one step closer to the god. He might not have been having sex for centuries, unlike somebody’s brother, probably, maybe, but he was a very good lover, both as a top and a bottom, and he _would_ have Loki scream his name by the end of this, whatever this was.

For all his selfishness, Tony was a very generous lover.

“I am ready,” Loki said calmly, giving back his empty glass.

All right then. “Come here.”

Loki, surprisingly, obeyed. Tony crossed the remaining distance between them and reached for that alabaster face. It smoothed instantly under the firm caress. Loki’s chin was soft under his thumb, the lips twin lines of moist ensnarement. He stroked a cheek and felt the sharp bones underneath. He wondered if he would cut himself on that cheekbone, should Loki open his mouth wide enough, to fit his lips around his…

No, not going there. Not yet, anyway… and probably never, if he wanted to live past tonight.

“May I kiss you?”

Eyelids fluttering, Loki quietly nodded. The afternoon sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows really made it all the more obvious how stunning the god was, and how sensitive, too. Tony felt his self control slip as Loki parted lips for his tongue to explore. He looked like a painting in the making, ready to be colored. Tony wanted to add blush strokes everywhere.

He kissed Loki for all he was worth, working his lower lip between his own, stroking his tongue, sucking on it, all the while listening for Loki’s responses and adapting the making-out accordingly. He would make it good for Loki, he’d promised himself. He would make it the best sexual experience of the next two millennia.

When they parted, Loki’s cheeks were red and his pupils blown wide. He didn’t move, as if he was waiting for Tony to make the next move.

Tony was only too happy to oblige.

He backed Loki against the bed, distracting him with soft kisses and less soft bites on every spot of naked skin he could find without tearing at the god’s ridiculous leather armor. Every inch conquered was done slowly, so Loki could still step back, still flee, if he’d rather have someone else see him through his virgin night. Tony really hoped he didn’t, because his mind was on a loop of _mine-mine-mine_ ever since they’d started kissing.

He waited for Loki to kiss him back, to protest, or maybe punch him in the face, but the god merely followed Tony’s lead and ended up on his back, legs spread and eyes wide. Tony hoped he didn’t look _too_ hungry.

Green eyes met his. “Will it hurt?”

He sounded merely curious, but Tony knew better. He remembered his first time and winced. The man fucking him through the mattress hadn’t been gentle, bothering with lube only when blood started to show. Loki must have noted the wince, because new lines of worry creased his forehead.

“It can,” Tony said reluctantly. “It will, a little, but only at first. I’ll do my best to distract you.” And he grinned, because if he was confident about something in this world, it was his ability to blow someone’s mind in bed.

Loki grinned back. “I’m not afraid, Stark.”

Bullshit. “I thought we were on a first name basis, Loki. What happened to Anthony?”

“Then do your worst, Anthony.”

And that was probably the worst (or maybe the best) thing Loki could have said at that point, because Tony lost no time in stripping him of his clothes, not stopping once to ask if it was okay, if he should slow down, because really, the god was strong enough to throw him through another window from the bed if he disagreed with the pace. If there was anyone intimidated in this room, it was Tony; Loki was intimidating as hell.

Loki had a god’s body, of that there was no doubt. Tony drank in all the smooth curves and sharp angles, wondered at the scars (he hadn’t known gods could scar). He was drooling as his eyes finally set on the treasure trail leading to Loki’s cock. It had been soft as Tony had started to peel the leather off his body, but it was erect now, and Tony absolutely did not smile as Loki’s hips snapped forwards, conveying an unconscious need for friction.

“So… You’ve never done anything in bed?”

“No.”

Loki was breathing heavily, looking at Tony from under his dark lashes. Tony felt suddenly very dizzy.

“Nothing at all?”

“I believe that this is the meaning of ‘no’.”

Tony inhaled deeply. He wanted to palm that cock and stroke it now, but he had to get a clearer picture first. Mature adults and all that.

“So… Nobody has caressed you… here?”

He brushed the tip of Loki’s cock with his thumb, tracing the slit. It was already wet. Tony groaned without meaning to, and Loki’s eyes flashed wild.

“No.” A breathless sound that shot straight to Tony’s groin. Tony stared as Loki’s cock twitched and seemed to grow bigger still. For one moment, he wished he was the one who would be fucked tonight, because damn, he hadn’t welcomed such a biological marvel in his ass in _decades_ , and he was the one with a short life span here.

Loki closed his eyes. “Yes.” A soft exhale. “You are the first.”

Tony might have lost all connection to his brain for a few seconds there. Loki’s first. Thor had told the truth. Tony understood the meaning of _virgin night_ quite clearly, but the appeal of it hadn’t registered until Loki thought to make it very, very explicit.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

And before Tony could stumble over his own tongue and make a fool of himself (again), he wrapped his lips around the head of Loki’s cock and started to suck. It had been a couple of years since he’d given head, but he remembered the tricks well enough.

“Oh...” A sharp exhale.

Tony hollowed his cheeks around Loki’s length, earning himself another moan: his name, a plea and reward. Loki tasted musky and sweet, and something definitively exotic that his scientific mind (albeit pushed aside by lust) tried to catalogue. He took more of Loki into his mouth, guided by the god’s thrashing motions and soft whines, and wow, he shouldn’t have waited so long before taking Loki to bed. Precum mingled with saliva in his mouth, subtly salty, delicious. Tony didn’t bother trying to keep Loki’s hips still: the god thrust into his mouth with gorgeous abandon, and Tony cried and gagged from the repetitive hits to the back of his throat. It hurt, it was too much, too fast, and he loved it.

Loki’s sweaty form twisted above him, all shiny marble. His eyes were closed, his lips parted and bruised, and his hands were fisted in the sheets. Tony wished he had another mouth to tell him to grab and pull his hair already.

Next time, perhaps.

He realized he was rutting like a teenager and steeled his resolve. He would _not_ come before Loki, especially like this.

“I thought I was t-to…” Loki’s hoarse voice brought him back to the here and now. The stuttering, so unusual for the god, brought a growl from Tony’s chest. He hummed around Loki’s cock, grinning at the sharp cry it got him. “When are you going to t-take me, Stark?”

Tony let go of Loki’s cock with an exaggerated wet sound. “Soon,” he said, darting his tongue to lick one taunt nipple.

Soon enough, just as promised, he nudged a lubed finger between Loki’s cheeks, seeking his hole. He felt the god tense at once. Be gentle, he reminded himself. He couldn’t rush this, even if he wanted nothing more than to shove his cock into that welcoming heat. Panting hard, he positioned the tip of his finger and pressed in slowly, so slowly; he felt like an eternity had passed by the time he’d fully sheathed one digit.

With his other hand, he fondled Loki’s balls. They were hairless. Tony tongued them, curious and aroused. He laughed softly as Loki finally took a handful of his hair and _growled_. The begging had not started yet, but Loki was close.

Tony took one ball into his mouth even as he slid the tip of another slick finger into his ass. Loki’s soft hiss was followed by a high keen, a wonderful sound Tony definitively wanted played on stereo for the rest of his life.  

“Anthony!”

Loki came in hot bursts down Tony’s throat, two fingers in his ass and a hand gently massaging his balls. Tony let him a couple of seconds to recover from his climax before he added a third finger.

“You’re doing so well.” His voice was husky, rough. “You’re bloody gorgeous like that.”

Loki turned his head to the side, muffling something in a pillow. Tony kissed his creamy inner thigh and praised him some more. He worked his three fingers to the last knuckle, then proceeded to stretch that wonder of a hole. Loki thrashed and squirmed, but he didn’t try to get out of the bed.

“So good for me,” he whispered in a croon. “You’re perfect.”

When he thought he would combust from sheer desire, he licked around his fingers, turning the pain-pleasure switch of Loki’s body to full pleasure. He kept talking, kept telling the god how hot he looked and how good he tasted, how much Tony enjoyed seeing him all flushed and aroused. When the time was ripe, he wiped his fingers on the sheets and pressed the head of his cock against paradise.

He felt the moment Loki’s stress reached its peak: the god clammed down on him.

“God,” Tony groaned, unconsciously sinking his nails in Loki’s sides. He licked his way up his throat. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Loki made a strangled noise, halfway between a laugh and a cry. “You are right… on both accounts.”

Tony couldn’t move. He felt as though his cock was squeezed like a vice, and damn but it hurt, and not in the fun way. He kissed Loki’s collarbone, thinking about how he would enjoy spending the rest of his life sheathed in that ass, those milky buttocks in full display, if only Loki would let him.

“Relax, baby.” The endearment met no protest. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Loki arched his back. The pressure on Tony’s cock diminished enough for him to start moving again, slowly, sensuously. He was so fucking happy gods couldn’t catch or transmit any disease, because he would have hated to waste that perfect symbiosis with latex. Loki’s ass was so hot it should have been illegal, and it had more texture than he’d anticipated. He _loved_ it.

“You’re gonna be fine.” He mouthed at Loki’s earlobe, sucking gently. “You’re gonna feel very good soon, I promise.”

Tony attacked his mouth then, plundering it with four decades of knowledge and experiments. Loki kissed him right back, his pointy nails drawing half moons in Tony’s shoulders. They were fused at both ends, panting and rutting.

“Disappointed yet?”

A snarl. “Fuck… you.”

“Another time, perhaps. I sure as hell hope… there will be another… ah! Yes, come on, let me…”

He could feel the moment Loki went over that other edge Thor had warned him about: the psychic and magical barrier that would allow the god to access his full strength and be safe from another hostile take-over by Thanos or his equally ugly relatives.

Loki screamed in his mouth. Tony tasted blood and fought the powerful waves of goosebumps cresting at his nape. Thor would have hit him with a lightning-charged Mjölnir that he still couldn’t have been more electrified.

“ _Loki_.”

His pupils were completely gone, and the white of his eyes had turned scarlet red. Tony kicked the fear in some lost corner of his chest and focused on their two bodies, of his own cock sliding in and out Loki, of his hands caressing those tender sides, of his mouth kissing, whispering, seducing. Blood welled where Loki’s nails had pierced his skin, but Tony hardly noticed. His heart beat in tandem with Loki. He held onto the god as a cold tongue battled with his own.

Everything would be all right, he thought fiercely, keeping the taut body tight against him. He struggled to keep the pace slow and comforting, as much as getting deflowered could be comforting. The last time Tony had been so gentle in his lovemaking had been with Pepper.

He felt Loki come back from far, far away. His eyes cleared. Suddenly, he was hot as a furnace, and tighter than he had any right to be. Their kiss turned downright messy.

He climaxed mere seconds after Loki spent himself over his wrist. The pleasure shouldn’t have been so intense, not after such careful a session, because that was not how Tony _was,_ but he felt sated to the bone, confident to take on the whole universe. It was the best sex he’d had in… in… He couldn’t actually remember, and wasn’t that both terrifying and wonderful?

He couldn’t say how long they lay side by side, their hands brushing against each other. The sun set.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welc… Loki!”

He let out a very unmanly yelp as the god lifted him from the bed and arranged his legs around his waist. He could feel Loki’s presence all around him, _into_ him, as if physical boundaries didn’t apply, as if the very laws of physics had broken down to accommodate Loki’s newfound tower. Maybe that was why Thor had chosen him for this. Maybe that was why Loki had accepted. There was something there, something new, a potential to behold.

Loki had come into his power and was now completely protected. Tony knew he must look smug, now that the surprise of being in Loki’s arms had passed. The god strode towards the window, smiling that secret smile of his as he caressed his cheek, mirroring Tony’s action from earlier.

The bite down his neck was hard, and everything Tony wanted. The mark would show tomorrow, Tony thought with another wave of fresh satisfaction. The board’s reaction would be highly entertaining. Maybe he could mention who had made it to spice things up a little and not die of boredom?

“Don’t look so smug.”

Tony arched an eyebrow. Loki’s thumb trailed down his throat, stopping at the vein. He spoke with his lips over his speeding pulse. Tony felt how his lips curved into a grin. Gone was the fear. The God of Mischief was back.

Tony bit his lip. “Or what?”

“Ah.” Loki kissed the mark he’d made. His right hand was still on Tony’s cheek. “I merely wish to inform you that such a display will likely end up with _me_ piercing you this time, and as it is not something I’ve ever done before, powerful emotions could be… dangerous for a mortal.”

Tony’s breath hitched. “I’m not afraid.” Arousal flooded his mind and body once more.

“I could break you.” A warning, a promise wrapped in a threat, very Loki-ish and so tempting.

Tony dragged a heel down Loki’s buttocks. “I could have broken you, and I didn’t. I told you: I’m not afraid.”

Their next kiss was tentative, a soft press of lips. Trust in the making, a new beginning. 

The End


End file.
